Ginny Weasley and The Tea Room of Doom
by Love Gordon
Summary: Not quite as bizarre as it sounds. *Chapter Four* Snogs. Dreams. And the Aureoleus Philtre. Enjoy!
1. Chapter One

Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom: Chapter One

_Note: This story is part of the Viridian Wand story arc (Harry Potter and the Viridian Wand, Harry Potter and the Amulet of Houle). If you haven't read them yet, I will warn you: this story takes place before both of those, and they do contain one or two spoilers. _

_This chapter contains one quote from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland", which is copyrighted by Lewis Carroll._

Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom: Chapter One

_by Love Gordon_

**The Hatter opened his eyes very wide on hearing this; but all he SAID was, `Why is a raven like a writing-desk?' **

**`Come, we shall have some fun now!' thought Alice. `I'm glad they've begun asking riddles.--I believe I can guess that,' she added aloud. **

**`Do you mean that you think you can find out the answer to it?' said the March Hare. **

**`Exactly so,' said Alice.**

_- Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland"_

The change in Ginny Weasley surely did not happen overnight. Perhaps she had been growing up by inches for quite sometime, but it wasn't really apparent unless one hadn't seen her in a while.

Not that there was anything so very strange about Ginny Weasley growing up, after all. She was fourteen the summer she matured so drastically, and it was high time she ceased being a rather shy little girl who worshipped Harry Potter. The way she grew up, however, was bound to startle anyone.

She grew a few inches, yes. But otherwise she didn't change very much; she just became more - _intensely - Ginny. She seemed to be bursting with vitality, extremely vivacious, finally losing her shyness. Maybe that what was so startling. Ginny had been rather quiet- though no less impish than her brothers- and, suddenly, she was alive, loud, __animated. She became less a sidekick than a lead player._

She laughed. She smiled.

Perhaps it was Harry Potter who had something to do with this, after all. The summer of his fifth year was spent at the Burrow, albeit with Dudley,due to the mysterious deaths of Vernon and Petunia Dursley, which were later attributed to Voldemort. The Weasleys welcomed him with open arms and (in Mrs. Weasley's case) homemade fudge. Of course, Ginny was rather terrified by the fact she was spending a whole summer with the great Harry Potter - she still had a crush on him, after all those years.

Her saviour was in the form of Hermione Granger, who had done some growing up herself. While still bookish in the extreme, Hermione was now a rather pretty girl, if not a full-blown beauty. She was also the perfect companion for an awkward, but friendly and intelligent girl such as Ginny. Hermione visited for the whole months of July and August, and all of Ginny's fears were put at ease. To put it lightly.

The girls held Quidditch matches against the boys, with only Percy's fiancée Penelope and Mrs. Weasley on their side - and won. Fred and George pranked them - and they pranked back. To an alarming degree. They went skinny-dipping in a nearby, secluded pond - only to have the boys steal their clothes. Of course, Hermione used a Summoning Charm on their clothes and they had them back in a minute - but _still! The boys suffered for that for weeks. They went on a midsummer trip to Muggle London, and Ginny was introduced to the wonder that was Harrods. That was where she found the Givenchy perfume that she would wear to the day of her death - and, as a teenager, continually spend all of her meager allowance on._

Amidst all the pranks, Quidditch, and field trips, something else happened. She became friends with Harry Potter, to whom only a year before she couldn't have said two words. Now they had a running argument on whether the Chudley Cannons team that year was or was not going to make it to the Nationals, occasionally switching sides whenever new ammunition was needed to keep the argument going. By that time their dialogue had become so embellished with Quidditch terms that only Fred and George were able to make any sense of what they were saying- and half of that they swore Harry and Ginny were making up on the spot.

So yes, perhaps, Harry Potter did have something to do with it all- he made her forget her shyness, he brought out the Quidditch fanatic in her. Something like that.

Then again, there was more than an inner change to Ginny, but the outer one was hardly more than an afterthought. For when you spoke with Ginny, you thought only how lively and animated she was- but when she had left the room, it came to you that she beautiful. For she was, but that did not define her as it did so many girls. _She defined __it._

So, you could say that all that really changed about her was that one thing. The act of defining. Before, her friends, her house, her looks defined her. After, she defined them.

Perhaps it was that change that was to define her future.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~Draco Malfoy fell in love when he sat down in the last compartment of the Hogwarts Express, across from its other occupant, a girl with long red hair and a faint smattering of freckles. He was almost absolutely certain he had never seen her before, though there seemed to be something extremely familiar about her. Not that he was counting on his memory as it was; he was adrift in a blissful stupor.**

Then the girl spoke.

"Abandoned your cronies, Malfoy?" she inquired sarcastically. He blinked. She had looked rather angelic before she spoke.

"Cronies?" he said, dazed.

"You know, those big goons you hang about with. Grab and Coil?"

"Crabbe and Goyle," Draco corrected automatically. "Are you new here?"

"Have you amnesia or something?" the girl snapped irritably. "You know perfectly well who I am. I suppose you're just trying to annoy me as you always do. Well, it won't work. Scoot! My brothers are coming, Harry and Hermione too, and you're taking up valuable space."

"You're sitting with Potter and a_ Mudblood?" This came through loud and clear to him out of the confusion of the conversation. _

"Oh, please," the girl said, waving her hand in dismissal at him, "Do you really think I'm going to put up with that? I think not. Get out, Malfoy, or I'll hex you. Or the rest of them will."

"Who _are you?" he asked._

"I'm Ginny Weasley, as I'm very, very sure you know. _Out."_

He found a seat in another compartment, where he spent the remainder of the train ride staring out the window. He should have been privately berating himself for even talking to the Weasley girl, let alone finding her attractive. However, he had skipped all that, and now was in a fit of anger over all of it. Never mind the blissful haze. He hated her. Furiously.

Draco was angry enough not to notice that some part of him he didn't want to.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

After the sorting ceremony was over, Dumbledore called them to attention.

"As you know," he said, stroking his long white beard, "Due to Voldemort's arising once more, several of our number have left us over the summer, some to other schools in safer countries, and some to a better place than this earth. I would like you to bow your heads in memory of thethree students we will not be welcoming back this year."

Draco could see a dark-haired girl - Parvati Patil? - leaning over to whisper something in Granger's ear. Her eyes went wide. She told that section of the Gryffindor table gently. Potter put his head on the table, and Ginny - hated Ginny! - put a hand on his back, as if to comfort him.

"Who died?" he asked Millicent Bulstrode, who was sitting next to him.

She snickered. "Two Ravenclaws and a Hufflepuff. Nobody important."

"Who?"

"Oh, I don't know, Cho Chang, some Ernie guy - the Hufflepuff - and a second year."

"Oh? Well, no matter, at least we'll be doubly sure of beating Ravenclaw in Quidditch this year."

Millicent snickered again. For some reason, Draco had never liked Millicent. He found her rather unpleasant.

Food appeared on the Slytherin tables, and he realized he had missed the end of Dumbledore's speech.

"Who's the new DADA teacher this year?" he asked Crabbe, who was on his left. He had rather tired of talking to Millicent.

Crabbe scratched his head. "Um, some lady named Sanibel? Like the island?"

"Shanna Bell?"

"Yeah, that's it. Katie's older sister. The Gryffindor chaser."

"Horrid."

"Yeah," said Crabbe indifferently.

Draco could see that between Crabbe and Millicent he wasn't going to have a decent conversation that evening, so he started in on the food. The elves had really outdone themselves; in addition to the usual food there was a proliferation of the dishes that he himself favoured at home. He smiled to himself. Perhaps Dobby was better off at Hogwarts, anyhow...

When he had finished his dinner, Draco found himself looking over at the Gryffindor table. Ginny was sitting over there, her hand still on Potter's shoulder, her food hardly touched. He stared. She wasn't dating Potter, was she? Some sort of James and Lily complex? He wondered. He saw the look Ron Weasley was giving Neville Longbottom, who was attempting to flirt with her. No, he thought not.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Late that night, Ginny and Harry were still sitting in the Gryffindor common room. Ron and Hermione had gone up to bed a few minutes before, but Harry hadn't budged from his seat in front of the fire, so Ginny had stayed sitting as well. A moment of silence elapsed before she turned to Harry.

"It's not that she's dead that's bothering you so much, Harry," she said quietly. He gave her a look. "Oh, I said that wrong. But you know what I mean..."

"It's my fault," he said, as he had said all evening. But this time he continued. "If I hadn't fancied her, she would be alive today. I should go away, before he kills you and Ron and Hermione, too."

"It's not your fault she's dead. It's You-Kn- Voldemort's fault, and Pettigrew's."

Harry looked away from the fire, startled. "How do you know about Pettigrew?"

"Us Weasleys, we're poor. The walls are thin." She smiled, but it was only a ghost of her usual grin. "You've been brave beyond belief, and I know what you've been through, all of it. Don't worry yourself about Cho. Unfortunately, she's been on Voldemort's hit list since before she was born. Before even you, Harry."

"What?"

"It's hard to explain things, sometimes…" she trailed off, and bit her lip. "It's just, yes, she was a talented witch, but… there were a lot of good, if not spectacular, witches and wizards that disappeared during Voldemort's reign of terror, nearly fourteen years ago now. Their families were killed… they were presumed dead."

"Over the years, some of them were found… many insane, fit only for St. Mungo's, but most were dead. No one ever knew if Voldemort had taken them for his own uses, or, as some suspected, they had gone willingly. Cho's father was one of those who disappeared, when she was two years old; her whole family was killed while she was visiting her grandmother's home. As far as anyone knows, she was the only person to survive that series of killings."

"You think she may have been a witness to something? That's why he killed her?"

Ginny shrugged. "She was only two. But if Voldemort thought she knew anything that could aid Dumbledore… and the fact that she meant something to you, once, was probably just icing on the cake. I don't know, Harry… but I still don't think her death was your fault."

Harry sighed, and ran his fingers through his hair, which was nearly standing on end as it was. "It still hurts. Does anyone know if there's going to be a memorial service, or something like that?"

"I don't know. I'll ask." She rose from her seat in one of the massive armchairs that ringed the fireplace. "Are you going to be down here all night?"

"No, I'll go up in a little bit."

"All right." Ginny made her way up the stairs to the girl's bathroom, off the corridor that lead to her dorm, intending to brush her teeth before retiring to bed. There, to her surprise, she found Hermione Granger, brushing her hair.

"Hey," said her friend, attempting to subdue her mass of damp, bushy hair into a neat bun. "I rather thought you might have fallen asleep downstairs."

"I wish, it's been an _exhausting day. Do you know if they're having a memorial service for Cho and the other students?" Ginny took a seat on a chair in front of one of the makeup mirrors._

"Probably. They really couldn't have a funeral for any of them, after all, and that would be comforting to their friends."

"What do you mean by that?" she asked, confused.

"I hadn't mentioned that, had I?" Hermione said, pausing in her efforts to restrain her hair. "You see, all three of them- Cho, Ernie MacMillan, and Orla Quirke- were all attending some sort of wizarding summer camp in Brighton. Apparently they were out sailing - and their boat drifted back without any of them in it. They've been presumed dead."

"They disappeared?"

"Well, you could say that…"

"Wait a minute, will you?" Without a further word, Ginny dashed down the stairs, praying that Harry was still down there. He was, still slouched in the chair where she'd left him.

"Harry," she whispered, "Cho disappeared."

He looked up at her with wide eyes.

"Like her father?" he asked.

Ginny nodded.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"What do you think?" she said at last, once she had finished spinning her tale for the Headmaster. Ginny was currently ensconced in a chair in front of his desk. He had appeared to be thoroughly engrossed in what she told him.

Albus Dumbledore smiled. "I think that you a very bright young lady, Ms. Weasley, to pick up on something even I had forgotten. Those disappearances are mysteries never solved, and rarely mentioned even in the history books. You learned about them from your father, you say?"

"Yes." Ginny nodded. "But what I mean is, do you think they were taken by Voldemort because he thought they were enemies- or because he thought they were allies?"

"Truthfully, I do not know, and that troubles me. But there were- and are- many people who would do anything to be on the winning side- no matter which side it might be." The Headmaster of Hogwarts sighed pensively. Then his eyebrows lifted, as in sudden enlightenment. "Maybe this is, indeed, a continuation of those strange disappearances. But we really cannot judge until we know more. Perhaps, Ms. Weasley, with your knowledge of the situation, you might be persuaded to, say, go behind enemy lines? Not that there is much risk involved, you understand- just make friends in Ravenclaw, and Hufflepuff, and see what you can find out about the three students we have lost. Maybe only one of them was the target- but the question is, who, and why?"

Ginny was at lost for words momentarily. "Well- I- I- I'd be happy to do so, Professor. But- do you think there might be someone else too, who could give me a hand? I mean- _all of the Ravenclaws and the Hufflepuffs? The boys too?"_

"I had been thinking about that. Perhaps I can find a boy to help you out. Is there anyone you would like to work with?" the Headmaster asked kindly.

"No- well, Harry- Harry Potter- he might feel better, if he knew he was working to find Cho's killer or abductor or whatever."

"I will consult my staff, and see who they recommend, but I'll take your idea into consideration as well. I believe it is nearly time for lunch?"

"Oh, yes-" Ginny stood up. "Have a pleasant day, Headmaster."

"You too, Ms. Weasley."

After she had left the confines of his office, Ginny pondered over what Dumbledore had said. He was taking her idea into consideration? She was surprised at this, for she had thought that Dumbledore would have gone for Harry right off the bat. But perhaps it was just another of Dumbledore's eccentricities.

She shrugged, and walked off in the direction of the Great Hall.

_So, who do **you think Dumbledore will choose to work with Ginny? And what the heck is the Tea Room of Doom? Please, please review! ::gets on knees and begs you:: This is my first attempt at a whodunit (yes, that is what this is going to be) and I'd really like to know what you think.**_

_Note: Just fixed error- I had written Millicent in as Mildred! Thanks, StrangerWithMyFace, for pointing that out._

_You can email me at [zer0_gurl@yahoo.com][1] with your praise, criticism, and any tips for surviving three weeks of AP Summer Institute Biology._

   [1]: \cgi-bin\compose?curmbox=F000000001&a=7d167e34c0cc91d45f621bf0f3117702&mailto=1&to=zer0_gurl%40yahoo%2ecom&msg=MSG994792576.6&start=56963&len=34583&src=&type=x



	2. Chapter Two

Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom

_This chapter contains one quote from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland", which is copyrighted by Lewis Carroll. All characters belong to JKR, except Michal Quirke._

_Standard spoiler warning applies._

**Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom**

by Love Gordon

**`Have some wine,' the March Hare said in an encouraging tone.**

**Alice looked all round the table, but there was nothing on it but tea. `I don't see any wine,' she remarked. **

**`There isn't any,' said the March Hare. **

**`Then it wasn't very civil of you to offer it,' said Alice angrily.**

_Lewis Carroll, **"Alice in Wonderland."**_

"I hate this," said Ginny vehemently. She was leaning against the wall in the Gryffindor common room, arms crossed defiantly across her chest, her expression sulky. 

Hermione looked up from her book. "Charms homework?" she asked, her voice incredulous.

"No. Helplessness."

With a sigh, Hermione closed her book. "Is this about Dumbledore again?"

"Look, if he cared, if he really cared a whit at all about whatever happened to Cho and Ernie and Orla, he would never, _never have made me work with __him." Ginny sat down next to her friend in one of the red velvet armchairs that ringed the fireplace. "Oh, Hermione, you're the only one I can even mention this to. If I told Harry, I'm scared, he might-"_

"Do something rash, I know. He hates Malfoy, as does Ron. All I have to say on the matter is that I look on him with a hearty dislike. But he is a Slytherin, you know. Must be good for undercover work."

"He's nasty. _Vile," she moaned._

"True," Hermione said, touching a finger to her chin, lost in thought. "He must have some good qualities, though."

"Not a drop!" Ginny wrung her hands. "How can Dumbledore expect me to do this all on my own, let alone with _him? Hatred isn't good enough for that- that- __Malfoy."_

"Why ever do you hate him so much? Perhaps he's not entirely endearing, but certainly he can't be so hideous to you! You're Ginny Weasley, the new Gryffindor chaser, the most likely prospect for the girl Prefect next year. Even if you don't want to admit it, people admire you."

"That's just the problem," Ginny mumbled, staring into the fire.

"Ginny- you're not saying- that Malfoy-?"

"Yes," she said, and the sob in her voice was audible. "I think he _likes me."_

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

The next October day dawned clear. A visit to Hogsmeade, albeit a brief one, had been scheduled for the afternoon, and there was a veritable hum of excitement throughout the castle. Every student third year or older bustled about, busily readying themselves for the trip out that evening.

Except for two. One was sitting in a room just a hop, skip, and jump away from the Divination classroom, that had been allotted to them for research, planning, what have you. She was frowning disconsolately as she waited for _him. Ick. What a day._

The other was purposefully trudging up the stairs that lead up to the Divination tower, a similar expression on his face. Urgh. He'd have to see _her. How terrible._

"I hate your guts, I just want you to know that before we begin," they both said simultaneously upon meeting each other, and then broke into identical grimaces. The situation did not strike them as funny at the time, however.

"Have you any good ideas, Malfoy? No, I take that back- is it possible you have _any ideas __at all in that swollen head of yours?" Ginny Weasley asked the boy who had just entered the room._

"In fact, _Weasley, I know __exactly how to go about this investigating business, and __I don't need __you mucking things up," Draco Malfoy sneered._

"How am _I supposed to know you aren't making a farce of this thing? Perhaps __your little Death Eater friends are responsible for the disappearances."_

"Perhaps your friends at the Ministry are, and you're just trying to lure some innocent Death Eaters into a trap."

The two glared at each other with equal expressions of loathing.

"I absolutely detest you, Malfoy," Ginny spat out.

"Good," replied Draco with a mocking smile, "We're on the same page then."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"I still hate you, Malfoy," Ginny said over her shoulder as she left the room.

"Then why did you accept _my idea?" called Draco from the confines of the room._

"I did not accept it because it was _your idea, you idiot. I accepted it because it was acceptable, and it happened to fit in very well with mine."_

"Yours?"

"Never mind…" 

She made her way down to the Great Hall, where she met up with Hermione, Harry, and Ron.

"Am I late?" she asked, a little breathlessly from running down so many stairs. 

"No, a few minutes early, actually," her brother said. 

Hermione gave her a look, as if to say _All is well? and Ginny shrugged, __As is possible. Harry and Ron continued talking, unaware of the silent dialogue going on around them. On the way over to Hogsmeade, Harry slowed down and waited for Ginny to catch up to him._

"Say, Ginny, did you hear the Cannons have finally hired a _real coach?" he said. "I've been telling Ron that not even Krum could do anything with that line-up, but he'll hear none of it."_

She laughed. "Harry, do you know who the new coach is?"

"No, I don't recall hearing that, actually."

"They've hired Wood."

Harry's eyes were as big as saucers. "Oliver Wood? The former captain of the Gryffindor Quidditch team? Played for Puddlemere United last year? Not two years out of Hogwarts? _That Oliver Wood?"_

Ginny's eyes twinkled merrily in response. "_That Oliver Wood. He'll have even Basil Richards doing a Starfish and Stick in no time at all," she said, and she grinned. "The Cannons will be the best in the League this year, just you wait." Basil Richards was the Cannons' current Keeper, and a rather inept one at that._

"Ha! And this coming from the same Ginny Weasley who said Basil Richards had had more concussions than he had deflected Quaffles?" Harry said sarcastically.

"That's a matter of record, Harry Potter, and you _know it."_

Hermione and Ron, silent for once, watched with quiet amusement as their friends cheerfully argued the whole way to the Three Broomsticks.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Once seated, everyone ordered butterbeers, except for Ginny ("Chocolate is _so lovely, how could you even think of having anything else?") who ordered a milkshake. They also ordered a small apple pie, which they split between them ("It doesn't taste half as good at Hogwarts," said Harry with gusto)._

They started their visit laughing at the people on the dance floor that had recently been installed. As Hermione remarked, "You just don't _waltz to U2, now, do you?" while she watched Sprout and Flitwick try to do just that._

"Don't knock it 'til you've tried it," said Ron. He stood up and held out a hand to Hermione, who flushed a faint pink before she took it. They wandered off towards the dance floor.

"Well," said Harry, dumbfounded.

"Well," said Ginny, who tried, without success, to contain a flurry of laughter. After a moment, Harry joined in.

"Gone a bit barmy, have they?" he said when he paused for air.

"Indeed," Ginny replied, which set them off again. After a while, they were able to calm down enough to sip their respective beverages, while carefully keeping their eyes off the dance floor, lest they burst into another fit of laughter. "I think," she said cautiously, "We may need to drag the twins over here; Ron and Hermione will be too busy making eyes at each other to even think, let alone talk, about Quidditch."

Several people turned their heads to look at the two teenagers who were laughing so loudly in the corner booth.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Draco Malfoy was one of those people. He scowled at the sight of Potter and the Weasley girl; couldn't they see that some people would rather not be disturbed? He'd been deep in his book, _Mudbloods are Mediocre_, when they'd started howling like a flock of banshees. Admittedly, the Weasley girl had a pretty laugh, but… he reminded himself he hated her guts, and went back to his book, sliding deeper into his booth, where he couldn't see them.

Unfortunately, his booth was so close to theirs that he couldn't help but overhear some of their conversation, which had been obscured by the loud U2 song some moments before. (The noise of the moment, a fluffy Sarah McLachlan song, didn't obscure their voices, though it didn't do much for them either.)

"Oh, you should have seen the look on your _face!" exclaimed Potter, the git._

"And _you should have seen the look on Malfoy's over there. He appeared to have Transfigured it into a dried prune." said the Weasley girl. Draco recoiled automatically, before he remembered that they didn't know he was listening. He started to scowl again, before hastily pausing himself mid-scowl. She was right, after all; it __could lead to premature lines on his smooth white brow, and he couldn't have that, now could he?_

"Why bother about Malfoy, he's always like that. Sort of as though he grimaced years ago, his face felt comfortable, and it stayed that way."

Draco at this point was desperately hoping they weren't serious; after all, anti-wrinkling charms were advanced magic for a good reason. At some point, the thought drifted across his mind that vanity was perhaps not all it was cut out to be. 

"Harry, that's rather mean of you. He may be a sorry bastard, but at least he can think for himself, and his face needn't do it for him, unlike our friends over there," the Weasley girl - Ginny - said, a little severely, quite possibly because Granger and Weasley had given up any pretense of dancing, and were currently snogging in a booth at the shadowy end of the pub.

At this compliment, Draco's mouth hung open as he sat lost in thought. His forehead had been wrinkled up in consternation before he caught himself at it and issued his prized forehead a stern reprimand.

Of course, the benefit of the moments of consternation was that he never heard Potter calling him a constipated Puffskein, thus he didn't get hacked off at Potter and start scowling again.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"A tea party?" said Dumbledore, smiling benevolently from behind his desk at his two young visitors. "What a lovely idea! I'm surprised I didn't think of it before." He eyed Ginny suspiciously. "Say… you would mean a High Tea?"

"Well, yes, if you think it expedient," Ginny replied.

"High Tea…" the headmaster murmured absently, a glazed look in his eyes that Ginny didn't like. He laughed, a laugh that sounded as though it was not only off its rocker, it had probably hobbled halfway across the house by now.

"So, we'll take it that everything is settled? I've an idea as how to organize them as well," said Draco hurriedly.

"Oh, you do?" he turned his attention to the elder of his students, "Them?"

"You see, we'd planned a series of them. Each house would have a tea party with each other house. Seven parties. Gryffindor/Ravenclaw, Ravenclaw/Slytherin, Slytherin/Hufflepuff, Hufflepuff/Gryffindor, Gryffindor/Slytherin, Hufflepuff/Ravenclaw, and finally a big party with all four houses. They'd be social events, one per month, for fourth years and up. Orla has an older sister, Michal, who's a fourth year Ravenclaw, so we didn't see a need to include anyone younger…"

"They would be too young," remarked Dumbledore, the glazed look still in his eyes.

"Yes, Headmaster," Ginny said, slightly frightened, "They'd be rather young. We were thinking of having a fourth, fifth, sixth, and seventh year from each house help with planning. I'd be the Gryffindor fourth year, and Draco the Slytherin fifth year."

"Yes, yes, that will work out quite well. I will announce it tonight. Run along…" The Headmaster waved his fingers vaguely in the direction of the door. Needless to say, Ginny and Draco left with an astonishing speed.

"Does he strike you as behaving a bit odd?" she asked Draco, once they were clear of Dumbledore's office.

"A bit odd, no," said Draco, raising an eyebrow, "One Sickle short of a Galleon, yes. The man's plain crazy."

"Well, _obviously," she snapped, a little impatiently, "He is the great wizard Dumbledore after all. He wouldn't be himself if he didn't seem half-mad all the time. But I meant… a bit odd in a different way than usual."_

"Now that you mention it, don't his eyes usually twinkle merrily instead of glazing over at the least provocation?" he shot back. Ginny rolled her eyes. "No, seriously. He's been acting funny ever since term began."

"Hmm… you're right, actually. I've never known Dumbledore to act so odd before. Maybe he's just getting old."

"So you _do admit he's an incompetent old fart?"_

"Old, yes, incompetent fart, no. Malfoy, you better watch your mouth; I know at least four boys here who are very inclined to cursing the living daylights out of you, should you give them any reason at all." Ginny looked him straight in the eye. "And I don't want you giving Harry, Ron, Fred, or George one, you hear?"

"I hear you, Weasley. That doesn't mean I'll take your advice."

"That's not advice, Malfoy, that's an order."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"Do you think they'll go back to talking sense anytime soon?" Harry asked Ginny, both of them glancing at Hermione and Ron further down the Gryffindor table. They appeared to be softly cooing at each other. Both observers sighed; no one, save a few professors, had been able to get Hermione or Ron to say anything comprehensible in the past month. It was, in fact, the day before the first High Tea.

"Probably not soon enough to be of any help," Ginny replied, stifling a yawn. "Croissant?"

"Sure." She passed him the basket. "So, how goes your research project?"

She dropped the croissant she was holding.

"Research project?" Ginny asked, a strained note in her voice.

"You know," Harry said, "The one Professor Binns assigned on the history of the Holyhead Harpies?"

"Oh. That. Well, they sure don't beat the Cannons." Harry gave her an odd look. "I mean, they're not as interesting, of course I know that the Harpies have beaten them seventy-one times since 1924, but they're really more interesting when studied from a feminist point of view and I for one would rather be discussing Quidditch than Gwendolyn Morgan any day-"

"Ginny. Stop. Breathe. Is everything okay?" He placed a reassuring hand on her shoulder, and Ginny squirmed under its solid warmth. She was suddenly aware of how close they were to each other.

"Sure," she said, sliding out of his grasp. "Just fine. I just wish my best friend and my brother weren't off in la la land. "

"So do we all," said Harry with a sigh, "So do we all."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"So, we've arranged that I'll be seated with Michal this time?" Ginny queried as she and Draco bent over the vast map of seating arrangements. The huge tables were going to be Transfigured into a mess of little wicker ones, the benches into many wicker chairs with floral cushions.

"Yes, for the ninetieth time. And before you ask again, yes, I've had McGonagall check that Granger and Brocklehurst Transfigured the tables correctly. The two of Granger's that were threatening to collapse have been fixed." Draco replied wearily. It was nearly one in the morning, and both of them were tired and irritable from losing so much sleep over Operation Tea Hell, as Draco was wont to call it. In addition, Ginny had been hard at work befriending Ravenclaw's Michal Quirke and Mandy Brocklehurst. Draco was at least on speaking terms with Justin Finch-Fletchey of Hufflepuff.

"We're both tired, Malfoy. Must we go over the seating arrangements again?"

"Of course. We don't want another fiasco like almost accidentally seating Weasley- the younger one, not you- with Granger, do we?"

"That wasn't my fault, if that's what you're implying. That was all Hermione's doing." Ginny yawned, and slumped back in her chair. From where she sat, she could see the smoke from Professor Trelawney's incense outside the window. "Why don't you just learn my brother's names, Malfoy? Isn't it trouble enough to get straight which Weasley you're talking about?"

"Touché, Weasley. Why don't you call me Draco?" He leaned back into his chair to stare into her velvety brown eyes.

"Very well, then, Draco." 

"I never said you could, Weasley. I just asked why you didn't." Draco said, in a voice so cold, it was like a slap in the face.

Ginny looked daggers at him. "You know, I hate you. I tried to be nice to you, I even stuck up for you once, and you're still as snobby and conceited as ever. You're rude and arrogant and vain and I can't even think why-"

"You admired my stunning physique in the first place? It is stunning, I'll give you that."

"Like I said, I hate you." She sighed. "I rather wish I'd never gotten into this."

"Need your beauty sleep?"

"Not only that, my sanity. And my time away from you." Yawning, she got up and made for the door. "I'll be able to sleep in a little tomorrow, at least. If only I could for the next decade."

"Goodnight, Sleeping Beauty."

"Oh, sod off, will you?"

Draco's laughter echoed in the Divination tower.

_Whoopee! Another new chapter. I know it's a little shorter than the last (sorry!) but I've been very busy preparing my little site for the Viridian Wand story arc, **The Cassadaga Coven. You can check it out at www.angelfire.com/weird/dariana/. **_

_You all have been just lovely about reviewing, and I thank you for that. Hugs to everyone who reviewed!_

_You can email me at zer0_gurl@yahoo.com with your praise, criticism, and queries for advice on AP Summer Institute Biology. (I survived!)_


	3. Chapter Three

Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom

_This chapter contains one quote from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland", which is copyrighted by Lewis Carroll. All characters belong to JKR, except Michal Quirke._

_Standard spoiler warning applies._

**Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom**

by Love Gordon

**Chapter Three**

**"Alice felt dreadfully puzzled. The Hatter's remark seemed to have no sort of meaning in it, and yet it was certainly English. `I don't quite understand you,' she said, as politely as she could."**

_Lewis Carroll, **"Alice in Wonderland"**_

_ _

"Are you ready yet?" Harry called up the staircase. Ginny rolled her eyes. The Gryffindor/Ravenclaw tea party didn't start for another thirty minutes, and they didn't need to be down in the Great Hall for at least another ten.

"Of course not, you idiot." She tugged nervously at the edges of her ivory gloves, then checked her lipstick (a Muggle beautifying device Hermione had given her shortly before what was now referred to as _The Incident_), and dusted non-existent flecks of dust off her velvet dress robes. They'd been a present from Fred and George, and were, in Ginny's opinion, strangely tasteful for having been chosen by her mischievous brothers. A warm golden colour, her robes were of an old-fashioned design, edged at the sleeves and collar with soft ivory lace, and belted in at the waist.

Apprehensively, she peeked in the mirror. No one else was about; most of the girls were fussing with their hair, and the rest of the boys had gathered in the sixth-year boy's dorm to play poker until ten 'til, when the girls would inevitably come rushing down the staircase wailing that they would be _late_!

But Harry had a rather bad hand at cards, and Ginny had never seen the sense of fussing with one's hair when a simple charm would do. So he waited impatiently in the common room, while she stood on the landing just out of sight and gave the mirror one last worried glance.

"Don't worry, sweetheart," said the mirror soothingly, "You look just fine. I'm sure your young man will think so too."

"He's not _my_ young man," Ginny whispered emphatically at the mirror. "Really, where do you get such ideas?"

"Many a redheaded girl has stood there, saying those exact same words, then running off with the young man in question the first chance she got," the mirror replied. "Many a brunette girl said the exact same thing, and then there were even a few _blondes_…"

With a shrug, Ginny walked away from the mirror, still prattling on to itself, and descended the staircase. Harry smiled up at her. "You look… nice," he said, apparently for lack of better words.

"Thanks," she said. "You don't look so bad yourself."

Harry frowned at his emerald dress robes, which were edged with black trim. "They're a bit short."

"Get some new dress robes when you go into Hogsmeade next, then," said Ginny practically. "You can afford them, after all."

"Perhaps," Harry replied with a shrug. They made their way down to the Great Hall, via a small shortcut, in a silence that passed for comfortable. But it wasn't, Ginny knew. Things were changing, with her, with Harry, and even with the battle against Voldemort that she knew little enough about. And Harry was on his own.

"Harry," she said, after a little while, "Are you angry with Hermione and Ron?" 

He shrugged, then looked down at her. Ginny was a few inches shorter than him, and she could only see his profile, silhouetted in the dim glow. The halls there were dark even in the daytime, and many of the torches had burnt low. "Maybe. I don't know. It's just- we were always all three of us, the trio, all of us against the darkness. Of course, I was the one Voldemort really wanted, the one who ended up battling most of the battles, but…" Harry sighed. "They were always there. Hermione and her irrefutable logic, Ron and his loyalty, and then there was me. And now there's just me. Just me between the powers of darkness and Hogwarts."

"What about me?" asked Ginny, but she wasn't angry. She understood how he felt.

"It's not that I'm leaving you out, but, Ginny-," he gave her an anguished look, "_You're_ the only friend I have left! The only one at all, now that Hermione and Ron are, well, being Hermione and Ron. Fred and George don't know the truth, and Sirius is hundreds of miles away, if not farther. If I lose you too-" Harry stopped abruptly. They both paused in their walking as well. They were deep enough into the torch-lit tunnels that compromised the shortcut to the Great Hall that they were almost entirely enveloped in the blackness of shadows. He took her hands into his. "Don't- promise me you won't go doing anything foolish-" And he bent down and kissed her.

They stood there like that for a long time before Ginny spoke. "We're going to be late, Harry," she said, her voice shaking slightly. She tore her hands from his, and they both walked just slightly faster than usual, until they reached the doors of the Great Hall. They had uncovered something in the dark, cavernous hallway, something that had been lurking in the shadows since that summer, perhaps even before that. Maybe it had been created when she was just a frightened little girl, and Harry her hero, down in the Chamber of Secrets. Maybe it had always been, waiting for them, biding its time.

But Ginny turned her back on it, she ran away from it, and Harry did not ask her to turn around.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Draco was deliberately early to the tea party - he had to attend all of them, since he was a supervisor - but he did not see Ginny until nearly ten 'til. Potter came in about then with a redhead in golden robes, both of them walking rather hastily. The redhead said something to Potter, who nodded, and then she made her way towards the professors' vacant table, which Draco was currently minding.

"Hello," Ginny said, and he noticed that she seemed to be somewhat upset, twisting her hands together worriedly. A few strands of hair had fallen from her chignon, but she didn't seem to notice.

"Is there something wrong with your floral arrangement?" he asked brusquely.

"No- no," she said, shaking her head just a little more thoroughly than usual, "Though Table Five's is drooping just a little. You may want to send someone over there with an Invigorating charm, or else replace the violets."

Despite the fact that he rather disliked her, Draco had begun to worry about Ginny, who always seemed at ease. Ginny in a state of intense anxiety was about as discomfiting as meeting a Lethifold. All you could do was stand there and wait for something to happen. Most likely, thought Draco to himself, it would be something bad.

"Do you want me to move Potter to a different table?" 

Ginny shook her head. "No, just- could you give me something to do?"

"Okay," said Draco, "That's easy enough. Go Invigorate the violets, and anything else that's looking droopy."

"Thanks," she said, giving him a grateful smile. As Ginny walked off towards the tables, he looked at her retreating form, ever graceful, and he was reminded of the half-forgotten incident on the train. She _was_ beautiful, he thought…

Draco flinched as the violet she had been trying to Invigorate wilted and died.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

"So," said Michal Quirke, dabbing her eyes with a tissue, "It was Mum who got the phone, you know, but I was the one who heard it second. It's hard to believe Orla could have drowned, but… I just wish it hadn't been her." Michal sniffled quietly.

"Of course you do," said Ginny, with sympathy that, if false, at least seemed real. Michal gave her a faint smile.

"Petit fours for you two?" inquired Harry, proffering the plate. 

"I'd be delighted." Ginny took one for herself, avoiding Harry's gaze, and passed the rest of the petit fours to the other girl, who was idly stirring her tea with a silver spoon.

"No, thank you," Michal replied quietly. Ginny, in all truth, did not quite know what to make of her. She was perhaps five feet or so, a small girl. Her hair was a mousy brown and waved softly around her heart-shaped face face, almost matching the colour of her hazel eyes. Michal, Ginny Weasley thought, was too fragile and delicate to be beautiful. 

She might have seemed innocent, but somehow Ginny didn't like her. Michal had a cruel streak in her, a malevolent pride, almost, that it was _her_ sister that was dead. As if she fought to deny any true sadness by making her sister's death a tool to advance her, to gather the sympathies of others. But there was unease in her, too- as if there were something underlying, something that seemed amiss in a way Ginny was not accustomed to acknowledging.

The rest of the tea was relatively uneventful; Ginny spent it discussing the latest in _Witch_ _Weekly_ with Michal, and avoiding Harry's worried glances.

At nine, they stood up to exit.

"I have to stay late- supervisors' meeting," Ginny said rather stiltedly to Harry.

He nodded - a little sadly, she thought - but he didn't protest. "Do you want me to wait up for you?" Harry asked.

"No, that's okay."

She stayed put in her chair until they had all left. 

Except for Draco.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

He puttered around, cleaning things he really didn't need to clean up- that's what the house elves were for, after all. Draco did everything but Transfigure the little wicker tables and chairs back into the tables. Truth be told, he didn't want to confront Ginny Weasley. It didn't seem as though she had learned anything new related to the case- only that she was terrified. Of what, he didn't know.

It seemed decades, though perhaps it was only an hour before she walked over to him. 

Draco could say nothing. It seemed to him that in her distress, she was even more beautiful.

Ginny spoke, after a moment.

"Have you found out anything?" Her voice quavered slightly. 

"Not yet. You?"

She shook her head. "But… there's something wrong with Michal."

"Wrong?" Draco had to raise an eyebrow at that. "Of course there's something wrong with her! Her sister is dead- as far as we know."

"No," Ginny shook her head emphatically, "Not that kind of wrong, just- _wrong_. As in, she- oh, I can't _explain_ it. But I felt it, today, stronger than before. Grief is different. I know grief. But this was- it wasn't _her_- it was heavy, like a cloak- it should not have _been_. Ever." She bit her lip in frustration. "Believe me. It was there."

Draco frowned. "Are you a Diviner?" he asked.

"A whosiwhatsit?"

"You know, a Seer. Like Professor Trelawney purports to be."

Ginny wasn't up to laughing, it seemed, but she did roll her eyes. "Trelawney is a crazy old bat, that's all. There hasn't been a true Seer since, oh… Geneva Vianova. And that was in the twenties."

"No," said Draco, "You're wrong. Potter's mother had the Gift."

"Harry? Don't talk about Harry to me. Don't. Please." He noticed a sudden change in Ginny as she said this; she had relaxed a little, but now she seemed anxious again, worried.

"Weasley, is there something with Potter I should know about?"

"_No_!" she said, practically shouting, but the vastness of the Great Hall ate up the sound. "There's nothing! Nothing at all!"

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

The next morning, Harry and Ginny were quiet during breakfast. Hermione and Ron weren't there: Snape had given them detention for snogging in class, and they were gleefully serving their sentences. For some reason, it had never occurred to Snape to put them in separate rooms.

Ginny nearly cried out in surprise when an owl gracefully perched itself on the rim of her bowl of oatmeal.

"Well, I wasn't going to eat that anyway," she muttered to herself, untying a large package from the owl's legs. It was a hearty thing, she reflected, to have carried so much. The dark brown howl hooted softly at her and blinked its big golden eyes intelligently. She offered it her oatmeal, which it gladly accepted.

Upon unwrapping the package, she discovered two small wooden boxes, one intricately carved and varnished, one plain, and a slender leather diary. A small scrap of parchment fluttered out of the book when she picked it up.

"What is it?" asked Harry, whom she supposed couldn't help but be interested.

Ginny dismissed the package as "Something from Mum," but inwardly she was as curious as he. She peered at the cursive writing on the parchment, which was wide and spidery but still readable.

_A gift from a friend; to a friend. The lesser deck may seem the greater, but you will learn otherwise. Do not open the plain box unless you have finished your practice and are ready for the truth._

She opened the diary warily, having had a bad experience along that line earlier, but to her surprise it was already filled, in a sprawling script. Ginny read the heading on the first page curiously.

**_Tarot of the Daughters_**

_To the next She Who Wields The Deck, with love, Geneva._

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Late that evening, at perhaps half-past eleven, Draco was studying for a test in Charms when an owl knocked at the window of his dorm room. He was the only one awake in the room, so he got up and let the owl in.

The owl, which he recognized as being a school one Millicent Bulstrode often used, nibbled hungrily at the piece of bread he'd saved for such visitors, and then flew back to the owlery, leaving Draco with a small, intricately folded piece of parchment.

Curious, he quickly unfolded it and smoothed it out, forgetting his practice for Charms completely. He recognized the neat, round handwriting immediately.

_Malfoy-_

_I've received a parcel I think you should see. Please be in the usual place at midnight._

_G.W._

Draco looked at the note with surprise. Weasley owling him at such an hour? And a parcel? Certainly Dumbledore would have told them both if there was something they should know; as for a parcel, he'd have definitely have given it to them in person. He shrugged- but all the same he wondered.

Quietly, he snuck out of the room- Vin and Gregory were sound sleepers, but Stuart and Ralph Valebon (the twins) he wasn't sure about. However, no one woke as he crept from the fifth-year boys' dormitory, up the staircase, through the common room, and out into the dungeons. Draco slunk through the shadows until he reached one of Hogwarts's secret passages- the one that led from the dungeons to the Divination tower.

The old iron stairs that spiraled up, dizzyingly and almost nauseatingly, for innumerable stories, were slick with owl droppings, grime and dust. But Draco managed to navigate his way up with a muttered "_Lumos_." By the faint light he also noticed some bones, mainly of small animals, that littered the floor of the tower- but even that was nearly three - or was it four? - stories beneath him when he slipped through the entrance, just off the corridor that lead to the Potions classroom. But no matter- after a few twists and turns of the stairs he could barely discern where they ended or began, let alone be concerned with the bones of such long-dead creatures.

Shortly before midnight, he slipped into the room where they met, just a hop, skip, and jump away from the Divination classroom.

Draco was surprised at how different it looked by night. Yes, of course, he'd been there before at the same time or later hours, but then candles had burned and he had been busy working. Now, the candles had been blown out, and the room was bathed in pearly moonlight from the long row of windows on the side opposite the door. He could see the stars glimmering in the thick, dark blue of the sky.

Just then, Ginny came in. She wore ratty old paisley robes that had seen better days, but they looked warm, which Draco presumed counted more than appearance on such a cold November night. Her red hair, for once, flowed long and unrestrained down her back, curling up slightly at the edges. In her hands she held a bundle, its wrapping a flowery shawl.

"I've brought them," she said.

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Ginny quietly unwrapped what she had brought to show him. She hadn't dared look at them further in her own dorm- Lissanne, Tabitha, Debbie, Karei, and two fifth-years, Kellie and Andie, had spent most of afternoon and late evening magicking their nails different colours. And after the nails, they had gone on to hair. Liss had even brought a few Muggle glitter wigs from her home in Australia, which the pureblood Karei delighted in trying on. ("Don't Muggles make the neatest things?" remarked Tab.)

So she was startled when she opened the carved box and saw- Tarot cards. Perhaps she had known what had lain within, but certainly _these_ were quite unlike those that Trelawney always had them practicing with. Those were filled of depictions of wizard folk. And the people depicted on these cards were Muggles.

Even Draco raised an eyebrow. "Muggle Tarot? That's what you've brought to show me?"

"No," she said, shaking her head, "I didn't even know what they were until just now. An owl brought them to me at breakfast, with the other box, the little diary, and this." Ginny handed him the slip of parchment.

"Hmm." He read the note quickly. "What's the book?" Picking the aforementioned book up, he eyed it curiously.

"It's a diary, really, but it's all filled up. Inside, it says _Tarot of the Daughters_."

Draco dropped the diary like it was a hot poker. Fortunately, he dropped it on the table. "The _Daughters_? As in, Daughters of Morgan?"

"I don't know. It doesn't say. But-" She picked it up and pointed the flyleaf.

"Weasley, She Who Wields The Cards was the Mermish name for Geneva Vianova," he said slowly. "Either you're in with them, or we're on to something big. Real big."

Her eyes widened; she was almost afraid. "How big?" Secretly, she hoped about the size of a Snitch.

"Gigantic. Have you ever been able to do wandless magic?"

At that, Ginny had to laugh. "Never! That's stuff out of legends. Of course, I did little things when I was a baby- we all do. But nothing spectacular."

"Legendary is right," said Draco grimly. "You know- but wait. Are you trustworthy?"

"Of course I am!" Ginny frowned at him. She _was_ a Gryffindor, after all.

"No," he sighed, "Really trustworthy. The kind of trustworthy where you don't double-cross me, I don't double-cross you. No one rats. Especially to Dumbledore."

"But _why?_" she wondered out loud. After all, they despised each other.

"If the Daughters of Morgan are involved, that means Dumbledore may be involved, in a less-than-harmless way. That's bad news, for both of us. Can I trust you?"

Ginny narrowed her eyes. "You can trust me, _Draco_," she said, with extra emphasis on the final word. Then she extended a hand.

"And you me, _Ginny_." He made the last word sound like a muttered curse. They shook hands.

"Now, the Daughters of Morgan. Where shall I begin?"

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

Draco thought back over the many years he'd heard his father speaking of them, the Daughters. To Voldemort, they were the Lost Ones. To him, they were his protectors. Even though, truthfully, he had been their Protector since he was thirteen. Since Terwas died. Terwas, his father's hated cousin, beloved Abram's twin brother.

"First of all," he said slowly, haltingly, "They're- well, they're the main part of the Cassadaga Coven. It's a lineage of power."

"The Coven?" Ginny's voice was icy and reeked of displeasure. "The justice-givers? So they're purebloods, are they? I should have known."

"No!" His voice was louder than he meant it to be. "They're good people. Most of them are half-blood, even. They've saved me more than once."

"From what?" she asked him.

"From being a Death Eater. My father-" he paused, and ran a hand through his soft blond hair, "He's not the type to let anything slip past his fingers. I won't be able to stay out indefinitely. It could be worse. I could be dead now. But enough of that. The Daughters- they've done much. To bring justice, to everyone. I know it's a double edged sword, what they do-"

"It cuts both ways-"

"It does do that. But they have so much power… It's halfway leaking out their ears, you know? It could send the whole of magic out of balance if one of them does good, or does bad. This thing, with the disappearing wizards- that's not good if the Coven's mixed up in it. If this is from _her_, now…" Draco started to shake his head, then suddenly froze. "What did the owl look like?"

"Well…" Ginny said slowly, as if remembering, "It was a very dark brown. With yellow eyes."

"_Gold_ eyes?"

"Yes, actually. That's exactly the colour." she agreed.

"Oh, shit, _shit_!" Draco yelled. "_Sodding hell_! It was her." Turning to Ginny, he said, "Caro's an Animagus. She's the Bearer- the current Daughter- and if she wants to have this, you must be a Seer, and we…. We must be the only ones who can find out what's going on. Even Dumbledore can't."

"Oh." Ginny sat down hard on the edge of the table. She looked as if she were in shock.

"I'm sorry," said Draco rather unexpectedly. "It must be a bit startling for you. After the thing with Potter and all-," she glared at him, "I mean, the not-thing with Potter, and the tea, and…"

"Malf- Draco. It's fine. Shut _up_, will you?" He might have taken more offense at her words had Ginny not been giving him a half-hearted smile and looking at him with her big, deep brown eyes.

"You're _sure_ there's nothing with Potter?" he asked for the final time.

"Very, very sure," she said.

He didn't know what to say, so he kissed her. Her lips were warm against his on such a cold night.

After a moment, they broke apart.

"You won't tell anyone?" Draco asked.

"Of course not," Ginny replied, with a smirk that rivaled his own, "I'm trustworthy." 

This time, _she_ kissed _him_.

_Longer chapter! Hurrah! Speaking of other hurrahs, I recently released Part III, Chapter One of **Harry Potter and the Amulet of Houle**. Also, I'm now a proud member of the Mod Squad at **SevenOfQuills**, alongside other much-admired authors Lissanne, Tabitha Jones, Plumeria, Karei, Kellie, and Andie. (Where did you **think** all those Gryffindors got their names from?) Check us out at:_

_[http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SevenOfQuills][1]_

_As always, feel free to email me at [zer0_gurl@fanfiction.net][2] or [zer0_gurl@yahoo.com][3] (if you aren't "down" with the "establishment". j/k) I am now a proud member of Dr. Behel's AP Biology class, for the interested. Hugs to all who reviewed, especially Danette and Tracy. I'd thank the rest of you if ffn weren't acting up; you're in my heart, remember that._

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SevenOfQuills
   [2]: mailto:zer0_gurl@fanfiction.net
   [3]: mailto:zer0_gurl@yahoo.com



	4. Chapter Four

This chapter contains one quote from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland", which is copyrighted by Lewis Carroll

_This chapter contains one quote from Lewis Carroll's "Alice in Wonderland", which is copyrighted by Lewis Carroll. All characters belong to JKR, except Michal Quirke._

_Standard spoiler warning applies._

**Ginny Weasley and the Tea Room of Doom**

by Love Gordon

**Chapter Four**

**The Dormouse slowly opened his eyes. `I wasn't asleep,' he said in a hoarse, feeble voice: `I heard every word you fellows were saying_.' _**

_Lewis Carroll, **"Alice In Wonderland"**_

It wasn't until nearly a week after Ginny opened the carved box that they managed to get some actual work done. Previous nights that had been intended for perusing the leather-bound journal had (not so unfortunately, in Ginny's opinion) become prolonged snogging sessions. But, despite some protests from Draco, she had insisted on looking at the old diary that night.

She wasn't frightened of this diary. Tom Riddle's had been cold… and it wasn't nearly as old as this.

They pored over the diary that night in the candlelit room just a hop, skip, and jump away from the Divination tower. It was basically a guide to Muggle tarot, which was actually a great deal more involved than wizard tarot (which used only the Major Arcana, and was therefore much less accurate.) There was a great deal of information, so much that the little journal's contents would have been quite pedantic were it not for the cheery tone of the writer, who deftly explained even the most complicated subjects. Geneva Vianova might have been more famous for her talent with crystal balls, but she had _loved_ the Tarot.

"What happened to her, Draco?" Ginny asked after about half an hour of reading. She yawned and leaned back in her chair.

"Hmm?" he muttered inquisitively, not looking up from the diary.

"Geneva. Is she still alive?"

Draco shook his head, and pushed a tendril of blonde hair back behind his ear. "She died in the late twenties, actually. She was only thirty-six."

"Really?" she asked, feeling rather sad. So she really was all alone in this Seer business…

"Yes," he said, finally looking up from the little journal that had enraptured him so. "It was rather ironic, actually. She was quite the rage in Britain, and at the height of her fame. A lorry ran her down in front of a small theatre in London – Muggle driver, quite drunk – and she died instantly."

"Do most Seers die young?" It wasn't a casual question, though it might have sounded so to someone who had only known her a few months, as Draco had.

"Some, yes – they tend to get a bit careless with their powers, thinking they're invincible or such. But – Ginny–certainly _you_ can't be worried about that, can you?"

Ginny shrugged. "Perhaps I am. It's just that… Harry's mother-"

"_Must_ we bring Potter into this?" he inquired petulantly, swinging his feet up onto the table.

"He's still a friend, Draco," she said crossly, though secretly she was rather glad to be off the subject of dead Seers. "I'm terrified he'll get wise to us."

"And if he does?"

"You don't _know_ Harry. He'll feel obliged to get involved, he's already got this mucky business with Voldemort on his hands, and Ron and Hermione, well…" He sniggered. "It's not funny! I half-suspect they're under Imperius or something."

He gave her a calculating look. "That's serious, Ginny. Do you know what you're saying?"

"Of course I do!" she exclaimed. Then she sighed, running her fingers through her flaming cascade of hair. "But there's no way I can prove it. I don't even know who would do such a thing… It could be the person who's behind the disappearances, it could even be Voldemort."

"You said his name again." Draco stated flatly.

"He's not so dangerous, not to you or me. Others… others have his shadow over them, casting a pall over their lives. I see death, Draco… but not for us, not from him." Ginny walked over to stand by the great window that was the upper half of the wall opposite the door.

"Not for you, no," said a voice by the door.

Draco was halfway out of his chair before she caught him and shoved him back down in his seat. "I should have remembered about the map, Harry," she said softly. "That was silly of me. You've been here the whole time, haven't you?"

The boy in the door took off his invisibility cloak, scowling all the time at Draco.

"You oughtn't do that," the latter remarked absently. "It'll leave lines in your forehead."

"Shut _up_, will you?" Ginny replied, pushing firmly down on Draco's shoulder. "I think we owe Harry an explanation."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

He hadn't been for spilling all to Potter, but he'd had to indulge Ginny. Her nails were starting to pierce his skin at that point. So Draco was quiet while she explained the majority of things to Potter – leaving out only the snogging parts. She was tactful, he reflected, if nothing else.

For the most part, he ignored the conversation, watching instead the graceful movements of Ginny's hands as she talked, the roaring fire that was her hair when she tilted it to the side and yawned. She wasn't just tactful, he reminded himself, but beautiful, smart, even nice… 

Draco remembered the rather painful indentations in his shoulder.

Well, nice some of the time.

"Just don't get involved, Harry. If we find anything out, we'll help you, but don't get involved. People could get hurt," Ginny was saying.

"Like Malfoy," Harry muttered under his breath, but he seemed, to Draco at least, resigned to the current state of affairs. "So you really think that Ron and Hermione…?"

"Yes." She nodded. "And I think I ought to get at least one of them into detox."

"Detox?" Draco spoke up, his interest piqued. "It's Imperius, Ginny, not-"

"No, it's not," Harry interrupted. "Weren't you listening? I've tested. It's in their food."

"It's a potion," Ginny added grimly. "And you're going to be the one to find out what it is."

"What?" he exclaimed, somewhat put out. He'd been rather looking forward to espionage.

"Malfoy," intoned Harry slowly, as if speaking to a particularly dull-witted child, "Potions. Snape. Hates us. Likes you."

"Because he's paid to," Draco pointed out.

"Nonetheless…" Ginny put her hands on her hips. "Besides, if you're busy researching, you and Harry can't kill each other. As much as you might like to."

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

When she finally got to bed that night, the first thought in her head was _Good_. Now she didn't have her conscience bugging her about Harry…

Actually, it wasn't really Ginny's first thought, as she was much too tired to have a second one. She fell right asleep… and after a few moments of blissful darkness, she began to dream…__

_**Oh, good!** the girl exclaimed. **You're here. Sometimes it takes a while to get through.**_

**__**_The girl was about an inch taller than Ginny, thought that might have been caused by her boots, which the girl wore with Muggle jeans and a black shirt, her short hair waving about her face._

_**What?** she asked. They were in the midst of a vast desert, it seemed. Sand blew past her in the chill night wind. But she wasn't cold._

_**To the Realms!** the girl said, tucking an errant strand of her honey-touched brown hair behind an ear. **I'm your Guide. You'll be one someday, you know.**_****

**Me?** _Now she was doubly puzzled. Perhaps it was the whirling sand or the fragile moonlight like milk glass around them._

_**Don't worry. I was confused when I came to Serve. I was so young when they Called me. But you'll be different, I think, a Watcher, perhaps. Follow me**_**.** _The girl led her forward through the sandstorm, on a path that only the other girl could see. But they seemed to be making progress – after a while, the wind seemed to be lessening._

_**Where are we going?** she asked. **And… who are you?**_

_The girl smiled. **We're going to see Neve. It's not very far from here to Morgan's fire. And I'm Stella**, she added, **Stella-for-star. Like the play.**_

_**The play? I'm sorry… I'm rather full of questions tonight.** Her legs were tired from the long, hard walk through the sand._

_**Oh, it doesn't matter. I shouldn't trouble you. There!**_

_They were about a hundred feet from a huge bonfire. She caught a glimpse something rather like a huge throne, carved out of rock, a little farther off, but she couldn't be sure it was there from the great glare of light from the fire. There seemed to be animals and other creatures, creatures that were something between animal and human, gathered around the bonfire, but she wasn't too sure about them either._

_**Wait here**, Stella said, and with that the other girl set off towards the circle of animals that ringed - or did they? – the bonfire. After a few endless minutes, Stella returned with one of the creatures._

_**I'm Geneva**, said the Dark Nymph. **It's good to meet you at last.**_

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

He woke in the dark of the night, his heart pounding, his breaths shallow and quick. His head ached with the inexplicable loudness of his own crimson blood pumping through his veins. Draco lay back on his pillow, his blonde hair dark with cold sweat.

This was not the first nightmare. Far from it. Though they weren't as frequent now as they had been when he was younger…

His first memory was of the nightmares, Draco reflected. He had been perhaps two or three. He had woken… the nursemaid had tried to quiet him but he just kept screaming… and _screaming_… as if that would let the nightmares out of his head, back into their cage. Finally Nurse got his mother… as she held him he'd stopped screaming, and cried. He still remembered the terror in Narcissa's eyes. In later years the terror had been there even when the nightmares grew sporadic; it had turned into a different sort of terror altogether, an all-consuming fear of what he might become. His mother knew the power of dreams.

They always started out the same way, he remembered, as sleep overtook him and he began to slip back into the dream, to another new hell…

**_Father!_**_ he protested, **I want to go to Florean Fortescue's! Can't we stop?** He was quite a young child. His father was tall, towering over above him, dragging him along by the hand. The familiar beginning, another doorway to someone's forgotten past._

_**No**, Lucius said, his deep voice crisp and brusque. They had come to a halt in front of a small shop, windows blocked with semi-opaque paisley curtains. He could almost see the faint outline of someone inside if he stood on the tips of his toes. **Wait here**, his father commanded, jolting him to attention again. Without further ado he was shoved through the door…_

_It was a fortune-telling parlor._

_A girl of about six sat on a cushion in front of a beautiful young woman, quite unlike Professor Trelawney, but obviously the fortuneteller in question. However, the Spanish beauty didn't hold his attention for long – for he soon recognized the little girl from her wide brown eyes and vibrant red hair._

_He had stepped into Ginny Weasley's worst nightmare._

**~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~**

_Geneva was both what Ginny had expected, and something entirely different and infinitely more unfamiliar. She was plain for a Dark Nymph, but her eyes radiated a strange intensity that was less frightening than it was compelling._

_**You have fears, don't you**, Geneva said quietly, **of Seeing. You have Seen in him without bothering to discern the raw knowledge, you have Seen without willing it to be so, and you are afraid.**_

**_And _****you_ are like a gypsy_**_, she replied. **You are all shadows and nothing with substance that one can point to. I am not afraid of you, or your many different colours.**_

_Stella laughed. **Neve, it has been a long time since someone bested you at your games.**_

_**I saw one side of your face**, she continued quietly, not acknowledging the other girl, **when I read of your darling Tarot cards. But you were feared, weren't you? You saved your love for the cards.**_

_Geneva only smiled. **So you can play the game as well, little Seer?**_

_**Just tell me what you want from me**, she said._

_**Very well. I have brought you here to tell you this: that the darkness that holds those you love in its noose is a darkness the like of which you and you alone can Divine**._

_Stella shook her head**. Is that all you have to say, Neve? Why bother troubling me, then?**_

_**Because**, said Geneva, **our little Seer here knows this. And she does not believe.**_

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

_He walked forward, having long since learned that in these memories of the past, he was invisible. The beautiful Spanish gypsy-woman took the little Ginny's palm in hers, and examined it closely._

_**You have an interesting lifeline**, she said. **A very interesting one. I see danger at a young age – watch for death, my child. It haunts your back. And here** – she twisted a little to get a better look at the hand she held in her own – **here, you see, there is a strengthening of the lifeline, after the danger has passed. And, there, see - there will come another darkness, a darkness that that you alone can discover – but you will not fight it alone**._

_**Darkness?** Ginny asked, a quiet terror in her little brown eyes._

_**Little girl**, said the lovely fortuneteller, **you will not fight these things for several years. Do not fear. Look at your heartline – it predicts a great happiness at the end.**_

_**At the end? What about the middle?** Even the child-Ginny shared her inquisitive nature._

_**The middle – it too is intriguing. I see three great loves for you, child. The first, I think, will end in the danger I have spoken of. The second will be a Dream-walker, he who knows the secret nightmares of his friends and foe. And the third will be a Son of Morgan.** The palm-reading beauty sat back, satisfied._

_**That doesn't mean anything**, said Ginny suspiciously. **You're making it up.**_

_**I do not lie. To you, now, it does not make sense. But watch what I have said, little girl. Someday, a time will come that you will See what I have.**_****

He woke up, again, not filled with terror as he had been when he had dreamt the dreams of some person whose family had perished in a cloud of green haze. All Draco felt was a vague apprehension. If this was Ginny's nightmare – why? What caused this seemingly innocuous memory to be so utterly terrifying?

It was a moment before it hit him.

_Those things must have come true._

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Somehow, Ginny was not surprised to see him in the room just a hop, skip, and jump from the Divination tower in the wee hours of the morning. 

Draco stood at the great row of windows that composed the greater part of one wall and half the ceiling, his back to her, though she knew that he was aware of her entry. Quietly, she walked over to stand beside him, her robes swishing softly behind her. He turned to face her when she put a hand on his shoulder.

"Bad dreams?" she asked.

"Perhaps," he said, leaning in to kiss her. But she broke off the kiss with a shake of her head after a few seconds.

"Draco… Geneva… I had a dream." Ginny sighed. "She was telling me about a warning someone gave me – many years ago."

"I know," he said, though, she thought, it was quite impossible for him to. Though it was actually very hard to think coherently at the moment, being so close to him… she didn't resist when he kissed her the second time.

After a few minutes of such things, it was Draco who broke away, flushed and breathing a little more heavily than usual. 

"Listen," he said. "I know about the gypsy lady, Ginny. You don't have to be… scared of telling me about her."

"How…" Ginny began, various ideas running through her mind, all of them which she dismissed without a second thought. Except for one. "You Dream-walk."

Draco shrugged. "You could call it that."

She looked at him for a long moment in the stillness of the night, the latter which was tempered only by a few hesitant rays of light from the impending sunrise.

"I'm so tired," she whispered, "of Seeing."

***~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~***

Draco took the secret passage back down to the dungeons as usual. Despite his initial aversion to confronting Snape on a Saturday, Ginny had been quite persuasive in her argument, and somehow he wound up going to inquire about certain types of potions for his Defense Against the Dark Arts essay. 

Of course, he had been meaning to do that for his essay anyway, but _still_…

He slipped out of the stairwell, ran down a hall or two, and knocked on the Potions classroom's door.

Surprisingly enough, Snape was in. He frowned at Draco, but said nothing more than a gruff, "Come in."

The dreary dungeon room was, as Draco reflected, even gloomier on weekends than on weekdays, and it seemed slightly colder, as did Snape himself. If it was possibly to be "slightly colder" than sub-zero.

"Er, Professor," he began, "I have a paper for Defense Against the Dark Arts… it's on the use of coercive magic, and defense against it. I want to do mine on a potion, but Professor Bell couldn't recommend any good ones."

Snape's black eyes looked at him malignantly for a moment, as if sizing him up, before the man himself deigned to respond. "Of course she couldn't… Shanna Bell was a Hufflepuff, and an imbecile. She barely passed her N.E.W.T.s in Potions. _I_ can think of a few offhand, but…" He frowned in contemplation, his brow furrowed in a way that Draco never allowed his own to be. Then Snape's face lightened slightly, he walked over to a small alcove in the nether regions of the classroom, and rummaged around in a small closet ensconced there. He extracted a small black book, flipped hurried through it, found the page he was looking for, and nodded. "Here's a suitable one. There's an antidote on the next page." Snape crossed the classroom again, the heels of his shoes clicking sharply against the flagstones of the floor, and he handed Draco the book. "Take care of this. The only other copy is in the Restricted Section, and only seventh-years are allowed to take it out."

Draco nodded, his interest slightly piqued, but he made sure his emotions were thoroughly masked before he replied. "Thank you, Professor. I'll have it back by next Friday."

In the Slytherin common room, he opened it up to the earmarked place Snape had indicated.

**_The Aureoleus Philtre._**

_The Aureoleus Philtre was developed in Sweden in 1914 by Aureoleus Nott, whose daughter Effluvia continued research on it in the late 1970's. The Philtre is the only known Potion, Philtre, or Brew to duplicate the effects of the Imperious curse in the form of a Love Potion – it is so strong that the afflicted party or parties may never realize that such a Potion is in effect._

_The Philtre, however, requires several substances highly controlled by the International Federation of Wizards, and thus is difficult to make in the required quantity, as it must be administered every day for full effect…_

Draco let the book drop into his lap. He had read enough.

_For extra goodies and "Don't Call Me Angel", the prequel to Tea Room of Doom, be sure to check out:_

_[http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SevenOfQuills][1]_

_As always, feel free to email me at [zer0_gurl@fanfiction.net][2] or [zer0_gurl@yahoo.com][3] (if you aren't "down" with the "establishment". j/k) I am now a proud member of Dr. Behel's AP Biology class, for the interested, and have just taken my second exam-from-hell. Hugs to all who reviewed. _

   [1]: http://groups.yahoo.com/group/SevenOfQuills
   [2]: mailto:zer0_gurl@fanfiction.net
   [3]: mailto:zer0_gurl@yahoo.com



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